A Silver Moon
by The S.C. Greaser
Summary: Not too long after the deaths of Johnny and Dally, two new girls move to Tulsa; the Vienna twins. Ponyboy and Sodapop easily capture the girls' hearts, despite the fact that Soda's girl is two years younger than him. How will their relationships turn out?


(A/N: I do not own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does. Trust me, if I did, there'd be a lot more shirtless hot guys on motorcycles. And electric guitars. Oooooooh yeah. . You may think I'm kidding, but I'm not. I wants me some hot boys, motorcycles, and guitars. . WHEEEEE-HEE-HEE! Right. Shutting up now.)

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A SILVER MOON

An Outsiders Fanfic by The S.C. Greaser

Chapter 1

Sodapop grinned, then hopped off of the hood of the Corvette he was fixing. His grin was the most enchanting thing in the world, in Gypsy's mind.

Gypsy was my twin sister. The only way you could tell us apart was our hair style. Gypsy's hair was way longer. Hers reached the middle of her back; mine only went to my shoulders. Oh, and Gypsy always wore a bandana around her head. I always wore a black vest with flames running up from the bottom to the middle of the vest. Both of us had black hair and blue eyes. Oh, and another thing; my eyes have a yellowish tint to them. That's why they named me "Wolfeyes". I don't know why my parents named my twin "Gypsy". They forgot to explain that before they got into that car crash. Since they died, my brother Gallileo has been taking care of us. Also living with us were our older cousins, Buck and Chuck. Were all in a gang called the 'Silver Moon Wolf Pack'.

Gypsy looked at Sodapop and giggled a little. His grin got bigger. I rolled my eyes at the two. "Let the man work, Gyps!" I shouted to my twin. "He's paid to fix cars, not stare at girls!"

Soda's two years older than us, and the first friend we ever made in this town. It's just plain wrong that my twin sister dates my best guy friend! Soda looked into the distance, then waved at someone. We looked into the distance, then noticed that it was a boy of our age, fourteen, with slicked-back blonde hair. I couldn't see his face from the distance. He came running over to us, and stood next to Soda. His eyes were green-gray, and he had a charming smile and a face carved by angels. "Ponyboy," Soda said to the boy while looking at us. "These are the Vienna twins. Wolfeyes and Gypsy."

"People call me Wolfie..." I added in, blushing. Ponyboy smiled, and took my hand, shaking it firmly.

"Nice to meetcha, Wolfie," he said, still smiling. My face turned even more red, and I could have died right there. "My name's Ponyboy. Soda talks 'bout you girls quite a bit. He said you was pretty, but I didn't know girls as pretty as you existed!" My face turned scarlet with embarrassment.

"Thanks..." I muttered with a nervous giggle. Gypsy laughed a little, then looked back to Sodapop. Ponyboy took a seat next to me on the hood of a Mustang. "So...what brings a pretty little girl like you down here to Tulsa? Where you from, anyway?"

"I'm a St. Louis girl," I responded truthfully. "And my big brother couldn't stand livin' there no more. So we moved in with our cousins down here." I smiled at Ponyboy a little. "You a native of this town?"

Pony nodded with a smile. "Born and raised a Tulsa man. It's a pretty good town...Minus the Socs..."

"Socs?" I tilted my head to the side in confusion. He looked at me.

"What, you ain't got Socs up there in Missouri?"

"No...We ain't got social classes up there. It's a mainly-artsy town up there, so I fitted in pretty well."

"Oh. Well lemme 'splain what goes on down here..."

Ponyboy explained to me that his typethe greaserswere the lower class. The ones on the bottom. The East-Side people. Greasers wore t-shirts and jeans all the time. Leather jackets. Boots. Sneakers. And they usually carried swicthblades, just in case they got jumped. They got the name "greaser" because of the grease they put in their hair.

He then explained the Socs. The rich, spoiled kids from the West-Side. The lucky ones with the mansions. Madras shirts. Polo shirts. Ski jackets. Designer jeans. Pastel sweaters. For fun, they liked to jump greasers.

Pony then asked which one I was. I fell off of the hood of the car, laughing. It was obvious that I was 100 greaser! No one in my family could afford to be a Soc! I climbed back onto the hood, looking at Ponywho was staring at me like I was crazy. I giggled at him, then said, "I'm a greaser. My cousins are greasers. Gally's a greaser. And Gypsy's sure a greaser!"

"Gally?"

"Oh, he's my big brother. His name's Gallileo, but everyone calls him Gally."

We got onto the subject of our brothers and gangs, and he told me about Johnny Cade and Dally Winston. Johnny died to save a bunch of little kids. Dally died robbing a bank. One a hero, the other a hoodlum. And he read a note from Johnny telling him to tell Dally to look at a sunset, but it was too late. Johnny's last advise to him was "stay gold". At first he didn't know what Johnny was talking about, then he got it. I still didn't. He smiled, and took my hand.

"See...I recited a poem to him. 'Nothing Gold Can Stay' by Robert Frost. Wanna hear it?"

I smiled. Poetry was one of the main reasons I existed. I wrote it, I read it, and back in St. Louis, I exchanged poems and poetry ideas with other poets. There didn't seem to be any other poets down here in Tulsa, though. But Pony seemed different.

"I'd love to hear it..." I said softly, still smiling. He smiled too, then started to rub my hand with his thumb.

"Nature's first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower,

But only so an hour.

Thenleaf subsides to leaf,

So Eden sank to grief.

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay."

I was in awe. That was a beautiful poem. Far better than anything I could write. Well, that was because Robert Frost wrote it. I wasn't as good as him. I was Wolfeyes Vienna. An ameture. Still a teenager. Meh, I had plenty of time to find someone to help me out.

"How do you like it?" Pony asked, still stroking my hand with his thumb. I pondered it a little, then looked at him and smiled.

"I understand it. He's saying that when you're a kid, you're gold. Everything's new, like dawn. As you get older, it slowly gets...well, green."

Pony stared at me in awe. His jaw dropped. "You...you got it. It took Johnny a few months before he got it, and he was older than us! How'd you get it?"

"I'm a poet," I responded with a grin. "Aside from just writing poetry, I'm trained to ponder this stuff, then find out it's meanin'. In order to write poetry, you gotta understand poetry. That's my philosiphy. I'm also a pretty good novelist. But drawing and painting are what I do best."

He stared at me in awe, and I giggled. "What?"

He grabbed my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. "MARRY ME." he said. Jokingly, of course. After he let go, I fell off of the car, laughing. Pony laughed, too, then helped me back onto the car. I was still laughing. Pony grinned after I stopped.

"So Wolfie...um...are you busy Friday night?"

"Pony, never too busy to go out with you?"

Pony laughed. "You thoughyou thought I was asking you out!" He kept laughing, then finally stopped. "Yeah, I was asking you out."

I giggled a little.

"How 'bout we go to the drive-in?" he asked with a smile. I smiled back.

"I'd like that." I noticed the sun setting, then I looked at Gypsy. "Gyps! We'd best get home 'fore Gally skins us alive!" Gypsy nodded. I pulled a candy wrapper out of my pocket, then a pen. I then wrote my number down on the back end of the wrapper, then handed it to Pony. "Call me," I said before kissing him on the cheek, then got on my bike and started to pedal home. Gypsy did the same, peddaling up to me so we were side-by-side.

"I see you got a date," she said with a grin. "Pony seems like a nice guy. I like him. He's right for my sister."

I laughed. "You just want me to approve of you dating Soda!"

"Well...yeah...but Im also being serious! He reminds me of a male version of you!"

"EVERYONE reminds you of a male version of me!"

"Nuh-UH!"

"What about Barry? From the South County?"

"Well..."

"And Riff!"

"Well"

"And TOMMY!"

"I GET it, Wolf!"

We stopped in front of a ranch-style house. On the flagpole was a black flag with a silver moon on it. Yep, this was our place. We chained our bikes to the flagpole, then walked inside, talking about the Curtis boys.


End file.
